After 12 Years of Reforms, Why Is Modi Picking Fights With the Common Man?
There is an ancient Greek story that every powerful leader should occasionally revisit. Icarus was the son of Daedalus, the legendary craftsman who fashioned wings from feathers and wax so that father and son could escape captivity. Before they took flight, Daedalus warned Icarus against two extremes: do not fly so low that the sea ruins the wings, and do not fly so high that the heat of the sun melts the wax holding them together. Icarus initially achieved something extraordinary — he flew. But exhilarated by his success, he climbed higher and higher, ignored the limits that had made his achievement possible, and eventually flew too close to the sun. The wax melted, the wings disintegrated and Icarus fell into the sea. The enduring lesson is not that ambition is wrong. It is that success can create its own blindness.
That story increasingly provides an uncomfortable metaphor for Narendra Modi’s government. Modi did not reach his present political position by accident. He entered office in 2014 promising change and, almost immediately, warned Indians that repairing the economy would require what he described as “bitter medicine”. At the time, inflation was high and economic growth had slowed considerably, and Modi argued that unpleasant decisions might be required to put the economy back on track. Indians subsequently gave him something extraordinarily valuable in democratic politics: patience. They accepted disruption, difficult reforms and enormous policy experimentation because millions believed there was a larger destination in sight. Modi went on to become Prime Minister for a third consecutive term in June 2024.
We Swallowed the Kadvi Dawai Because There Was a Destination
The bargain between Modi and the voter was never that governance would be painless. The bargain was that pain would have a purpose. That distinction matters enormously. Over the following decade, there were enough visible achievements for supporters to argue that the difficult medicine had produced results. One Rank One Pension, a demand unresolved for decades, was formally implemented by the government in 2015. Digital India was launched in July that year and became the umbrella under which an extraordinary expansion of digital services and infrastructure subsequently took place. Broadband subscriptions, according to government data, rose from roughly 25 crore in 2014-15 to more than 100 crore a decade later.
The list goes considerably further. Article 370 was effectively dismantled. UPI transformed how Indians pay one another and businesses. GST, though conceived through a long process predating Modi, was finally implemented nationally under his government. The highway network expanded from 91,287 kilometres in March 2014 to about 146,572 kilometres by February 2026. Indian Railways says roughly 99.6 per cent of its broad-gauge network is now electrified, with the overwhelming majority of that electrification occurring after 2014. Defence modernisation included the acquisition of 36 Rafale fighters, while the government also built its national-security narrative around the 2016 surgical strikes, Balakot and, later, Operation Sindoor.
There were expressways, railway redevelopment, freight corridors, EV promotion, digital public infrastructure and countless smaller administrative changes. Some projects had origins before Modi — the Dedicated Freight Corridor and GST are obvious examples — and serious criticism can be made of the execution of several reforms. But the broader political reality is undeniable: Modi accumulated enormous political capital by persuading voters that his government was building something.
So Why Is the Government Now Pressure-Testing Public Patience?
This is where the Icarus analogy becomes relevant. Success can tempt governments into believing that political capital is permanent, that voters who accepted yesterday’s difficult reform will automatically tolerate tomorrow’s inconvenience, and that an unpopular opposition provides unlimited protection against public anger. None of those assumptions is safe in a democracy. The common man does not maintain a permanent ledger in which Article 370 or a new expressway gives the government unlimited credits against every future decision. People can admire what Modi achieved in one area and still become angry when government policy touches their wallet, vehicle, business or children’s future.
Increasingly, Modi’s government appears to be getting itself into precisely those fights. These are not necessarily policies without any rationale. That would be an inaccurate criticism. The problem is that several decisions are producing a basic question among ordinary citizens: why was this fight necessary in the first place?
E20: Even Good Policy Needs Consumer Consent
Take E20 petrol. The government’s case is substantial. It argues that higher ethanol blending reduces dependence on imported petroleum, benefits domestic agriculture and has been validated through extensive testing. The Petroleum Ministry says there is no evidence of widespread engine failures caused by E20, while ARAI maintains that E20-compatible vehicles undergo extensive durability and performance testing.
But that still does not answer the political problem. Many motorists with older vehicles are less interested in laboratory reassurance than in mileage, compatibility, warranty concerns and why lower-ethanol alternatives became difficult to find. A government convinced that E20 is the future could have offered a longer transition and meaningful consumer choice while the vehicle fleet gradually changed. Instead, the perception grew that motorists were essentially being told that the policy had been decided and they should adjust. That is how an energy-security reform turns into an unnecessary argument with millions of vehicle owners.
UPI: Why Create Friction Around One of Your Greatest Successes?
Then there is UPI, perhaps the strangest example because this is one of the Modi era’s most successful stories. From October 15, 2026, a 0.4 per cent merchant discount rate is scheduled to apply to eligible person-to-merchant UPI payments above ₹2,000, subject to exemptions and caps. Person-to-person transactions remain free, small merchants receive protection under the framework and the government has explicitly said the charge should not be passed on to consumers. The stated rationale is to fund the infrastructure, cybersecurity and services required to sustain an enormous payments network.
Those qualifications matter. Calling it a blanket “UPI fee on consumers” would be inaccurate. But the political question remains: why introduce new friction into something Indians had come to regard as effortless? Traders have already complained that an additional merchant cost threatens thin margins. UPI succeeded partly because nobody had to think about the economics happening behind the QR code. Why risk changing that psychology? When a government starts having to explain repeatedly why one of its most popular achievements now requires charges somewhere in the chain, it should at least consider whether the political and behavioural cost is worth collecting.
UGC and Paper Leaks: You Cannot Ask Young India for Endless Patience
The same problem appears in education. The UGC’s 2026 equity regulations produced such controversy that the Supreme Court put them in abeyance in January, describing aspects of the framework as prima facie vague and capable of misuse. By August, the Centre itself told the Court that the regulations were being reconsidered. Whatever one’s position on the underlying objective of combating discrimination, a regulation that travels from notification to nationwide controversy, judicial intervention and government reconsideration within months is hardly evidence of policy craftsmanship at its best.
Then consider examination integrity. The CBI says it identified and arrested people allegedly responsible for leaking questions from NEET-UG 2026, including individuals who had authorised access through the examination process. To Delhi, this becomes another investigation, another committee and another promise of reform. To a student who sacrificed years preparing for NEET, however, a leaked paper can represent something devastatingly personal. No number of highways or geopolitical achievements substitutes for confidence that an examination will be conducted honestly.
The Common Man Is Not an Unlimited Political Resource
This is the political lesson Modi’s government risks forgetting. Three consecutive terms are evidence of extraordinary political endurance, but they are not a permanent licence from the electorate. A government cannot assume that because people supported demonetisation, GST, Article 370, COVID-era restrictions or difficult economic decisions at one point, their willingness to absorb inconvenience has no breaking point. Political capital behaves much like financial capital: accumulated slowly, useful when deployed intelligently, but perfectly capable of being depleted.
That does not mean E20, the UPI MDR framework, UGC regulations and examination leaks are equivalent issues. They are not. Some are deliberate policy choices; others involve administrative or criminal failures. But politics is frequently shaped by perception rather than departmental classification. When motorists, merchants, students and middle-class families begin independently arriving at the same conclusion — that government is making ordinary life harder or failing to listen — separate controversies can merge into one larger political sentiment.
Is Modi Creating the Opening Congress Could Not?
For years, BJP’s greatest political advantage was not merely Narendra Modi’s popularity. It was also the inability of Congress to consistently convert dissatisfaction into a convincing national alternative. Rahul Gandhi’s own controversial remarks repeatedly supplied the BJP with political ammunition. Yet governments should never confuse weakness in the opposition with permanent loyalty among voters. An opposition does not necessarily need to demolish a government’s reputation if the government begins chipping away at that reputation itself.
There is no evidence that Modi wants Congress returned to power in 2029, nor is there evidence for theories that he wants to prevent another BJP leader from eventually becoming Prime Minister. Those claims would require pretending to know his private motivations. The far more serious question is visible in public policy itself: is Modi’s government creating the political opening that Congress repeatedly struggled to create on its own? That question does not require conspiracy. It requires only enough avoidable irritation accumulating across enough groups of ordinary Indians.
Do Not Become Icarus After Learning How to Fly
The tragedy of Icarus was not that he never achieved flight. He did. He experienced something most people around him could not imagine. His fall came afterwards, when the extraordinary nature of the achievement apparently made the warning about limits easier to ignore.
Narendra Modi’s record should be judged with the same distinction. A Prime Minister who took politically difficult decisions, oversaw substantial infrastructure expansion, implemented long-pending measures, dramatically expanded India’s digital ecosystem and won three consecutive terms has clearly demonstrated an ability to persuade Indians to accept change. But that history cannot become an excuse for assuming that every future policy deserves automatic public patience.
The man who successfully persuaded India to swallow the kadvi dawai in 2014 should understand better than most that citizens will accept bitter medicine when they believe it is curing something. What they will eventually resist is being handed one bitter bottle after another without being convinced why each one is necessary.
After twelve years of building extraordinary political capital, Modi does not need Congress to create his biggest political problem. His own government is perfectly capable of doing that if it continues picking fights with the common man that could have been avoided through better policy design, greater choice and a willingness to listen.
